Darcy Saga 01 Mr. & Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy (12 page)

As they veered onto a secondary avenue and crossed over a stone bridge spanning the river, Darcy proclaimed, "We are well into Pemberley lands, Elizabeth. Look."

The view was magnificent. The sun was low in the western sky, blanketing the spectacular landscape with soft shadows. To the west and east flowed seemingly endless fields of orchards and perfectly manicured farmland. Small, sturdy stone cottages were scattered randomly. Large numbers of sheep were noted as well as the horses that Pemberley was famous for. They saw a sizeable lake that was fed by numerous small streams from the hills and bordered on its eastern shore by a forest of cedar and pine that appeared to stretch to the horizon.

On her tour with the Gardiners, Lizzy had approached Derbyshire and Pemberley from the northwest, having taken a circuitous route. These were areas she had not seen with any clarity, her return to Hertfordshire being filled with too much dismay to inspect the passing landscape.

She scooted closer to him, resting a hand on his thigh, and he suspiciously watched her. "Do not fear, sir," she giggled. "I promise to behave...for now. How soon to the house?"

"Only a couple of miles now. We will be arriving at twilight. I ordered the torches to be lit." He placed his arm around her shoulders and snuggled her near to his side. He kissed her forehead and then nestled his face into her hair. "My Lizzy!" he breathed, "I cannot express my joy, my elation, to be bringing you home with me. Do you have any idea how deeply I love you?"

Her only reply was a bone-crunching hug. They held each other thus as the carriage proceeded down the tree-lined drive to the gravelly expanse before the entrance portico, not separating until the carriage slowed to a halt.

"How do I look?" she asked him.

"Stunning," he answered truthfully. He kissed her lips tenderly and touched her cheek with his fingertips. "We are home."

Lamps were lit in abundance, giving the house a bright and cheery glow of welcome. Scattered around the grounds were tall torches, lending increased illumination in the gathering darkness of evening. Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Keith, the steward, waited atop the entryway steps under the wide canopy, both smiling warmly. Darcy led Elizabeth forward.

"Mrs. Reynolds, you remember Miss Elizabeth Bennet? Now it is my boundless honor and joy to introduce you to her again as my wife, Mrs. Darcy."

Mrs. Reynolds curtseyed. Her face was beaming and, in an act of spontaneous pleasure, she took Elizabeth's hands in hers. "Welcome to Pemberley, Mrs. Darcy. On behalf of the entire staff, I wish to express our delight in meeting you. Please rest assured that we will all endeavor to make you comfortable in every possible way. We are at your disposal."

Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. Your kind words ease my heart."

Darcy introduced Mr. Keith. "Mrs. Darcy, welcome. I echo Mrs. Reynolds's greeting and assurances," Mr. Keith said. "It is a tremendous honor to welcome you to the Pemberley household and family."

Mrs. Reynolds turned to her master and curtseyed. "Mr. Darcy, welcome home. All has been prepared as you instructed. The senior staff is waiting inside, and dinner will be served whenever you wish."

They entered the enormous foyer. The room, with its marble flooring and painted ceilings, brought back fond memories for Elizabeth. Her visit here had brought William back into her life. The beauty and elegance of these rooms had finally coalesced her tumultuous thoughts of him into recognition of the amazing man he was. She stole a glance at him as he walked so proudly by her side, a dazzling smile on his lips. Suddenly it felt so very right to be here, to be with him, that all her doubts and fears vanished as a vapor on the wind.

Elizabeth's eyes fell on the people standing in a row before her. She experienced a moment of embarrassment to have so many stares directed her way, but the looks were universally ones of welcome and friendliness. Darcy took the lead in introducing her to each member of the staff present. The head cook, Mrs. Langton, was a commanding woman, tall and stout. One glance at her features and manner, and Elizabeth could well imagine the formidable competence of her kitchen management. The butler, Mr. Taylor, a man of some sixty years, was bent slightly but robust nonetheless. Mr. Darcy's valet, Samuel, was a handsome man of approximately forty. Mrs. Reynolds explained that the remainder of the staff, both inside and outside, would be introduced to her on the morrow.

Lastly, she was introduced to Marguerite. Elizabeth almost gasped in surprise. Marguerite was an exquisite creature, quite small in stature and build, with blonde hair pulled severely back into a knot and the face of an angel. Her voice was rich and deep for a woman, accented with a trace of her native French. She greeted Elizabeth properly but with warmth. "Mrs. Darcy, welcome. It is a tremendous honor to be chosen to serve you. I understand that my position here is dependent on my ability to please you and serve you competently. To that end, I beg you to express your needs and wishes to me and to hastily inform me of any errors I may make."

"Thank you, Marguerite." Elizabeth was quite moved by the greetings she had received. She addressed the group all together: "Thank you to all of you for your sincere welcome. I have been somewhat nervous regarding my reception, as Mr. Darcy could confirm, but your graciousness and concern for my well-being has comforted me. Thank you, again, from the bottom of my heart."

Mr. Darcy took over, dismissing the staff to their duties. He directed Mrs. Reynolds to have dinner prepared for two hours hence. "I will be giving Mrs. Darcy a tour of our apartments, Mrs. Reynolds. Please see that we are not disturbed. Marguerite, Mrs. Darcy will ring for you when she is ready to dress for dinner. Samuel, I will call for you as well." Curtseys and bows all around, and then Darcy offered his arm to Elizabeth.

They ascended the grand marble staircase, taking a turn to the left and then to the right, heading to a part of the house Elizabeth had not seen during her tour in September. She could not absorb it all! Every wall held a picture, tapestry, or wall covering of incredible beauty. Exquisite furnishings lined the corridors and plush carpet runners of detailed woven designs softly cushioned their feet. Statues large and small occupied wall niches or sat on ornately carved tables. Most of the doors they passed were closed, and hallways branched off to unknown destinations with additional latched doors and staircases. Perfectly spaced oil lamps provided illumination.

"This wing of the second floor is primarily private apartments," Darcy explained. He stopped and pointed down the passageway. "Georgiana's chambers are down there and to the left are guests' quarters. Colonel Fitzwilliam and Bingley have rooms set aside for their use. I suppose we shall need to reassign Bingley's chambers as the current ones are inappropriate for Jane as well. You have seen some of the public rooms on the southern wing, but we will tour them thoroughly tomorrow. Our chambers are up this staircase, on the third floor."

"William, I am lost already! I sincerely hope you plan on staying close by my side or I may wander off some forgotten corridor and never be seen again. I could well become the ghost bride who haunts Pemberley for all eternity." She laughed.

"Never fear, my dear. I intend to keep you quite near, not only so you will not get lost but for other purely selfish motives," he said cheekily. "In truth, Pemberley is not as difficult to navigate as some manors I have been in. Rosings, for instance, is far older, and I have always imagined the original architects taking perverse delight in designing a maze of halls and rooms with the singular intention of confusing the inhabitants. Also, Pemberley is well lit, day and night. I refuse to bump into walls, so I insist on lit lamps in the main rooms and passages. All the rooms and hallways have windows that admit sunlight during the day."

They had reached the third-floor landing and Darcy paused. He gestured to the right-hand passages. "Those rooms are unoccupied and have been since I moved into my father's chambers years ago. Occasionally we have needed to open them for guests, but I prefer guests to stay on the second floor. Someday our children will reside in those rooms." He said the last sentence softly and looked at Elizabeth with tenderness.

She smiled back but could not resist teasing just a bit. "And how many rooms are we to generate occupants for, sir? A girl likes to grasp what she is in for in life!"

"Well, let me think," Darcy thoughtfully mused, "there are at least a dozen empty chambers down that wing and I believe three on this wing, not to mention the others on the western side of the manor, so..." he paused and in mock seriousness began counting on his fingers, pretending to be unable to add it all before he gave up. "It is quite a few, my dear, so I suppose we ought to get busy with the unpleasant task of creating said occupants." He sighed deeply and theatrically, an expression of mournful sadness on his face, "A gentleman must be diligent in his duties."

Elizabeth laughed and took his hand, propelling him forward. "You are incorrigible! Lead the way before I attempt it and get us hopelessly waylaid."

Darcy complied, leading her to a set of double doors to the left. He stopped before opening them and took her face in his hands. "Elizabeth, I have dreamed of showing you these rooms, of having you here as my wife for so long now. I am overwhelmed! Pinch me or something so I know I am not dreaming."

"I shall do better," she said. She wound her arms behind his neck, twining fingers into his hair, and brought his face to hers. She kissed him with wild abandon, pouring her love into the task. He encircled her waist with his arms, drawing her to him so that she was pressed against every plane of his body. She could feel his ardor, his desire and arousal, and she experienced it, too. He buried his face in her neck and inhaled deeply of her lavender fragrance.

She held him tightly, allowing him the time he needed to regain control and steady his breathing. Softly she whispered, "I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy. Now, beloved, are you convinced of my reality?" He nodded, kissed her lips briefly, and regretfully released her.

Turning back to the doors, he said, "Remember, my love, these rooms were my mother's and she decorated them when she came to Pemberley as a new bride. Therefore, the fashion is more than thirty years old and totally outdated. You will be able to refurbish the chambers however you desire." He opened the door to his wife's modest sitting room and held her hand as they entered.

The room was generous but cozy. His mother had had an observable predilection for green and peach. Lizzy did not dislike the motif, his mother obviously having had exceptional taste, but she knew instantly it was not her preference. However, this was a vague thought as her eyes were drawn to the large windows, the general dimensions of the room, and the fine fireplace. She could easily imagine being very comfortable relaxing here.

Darcy was studying her closely. "I have arranged for a decorator to come from London next week, dearest. He will assist you with finding a style more pleasing to you."

"Truly, William, you worry too much. The room is beautiful. I will grant that some modification would be welcome. I tend to prefer darker colors, earthy tones, you could say. Nonetheless, I would not want to embark on a spending frenzy simply because the colors are not to my liking!"

Darcy laughed, "Now it is you who are worrying too much. The expense is not an issue. I assure you the estate can afford renovating a couple of rooms." Lizzy furrowed her brow. She wondered, briefly, if she would ever become accustomed to money not being a concern.

He led her to her bedchamber. It was arrayed in the same colors and fashion as the sitting room. The bed was ample but not overly huge, and several chairs sat on a beautiful Oriental rug that carpeted the floor. Three other doors were visible. Darcy pointed to one. "That leads to my private sitting room, through which is my bedchamber."

"Where does that door lead?" she asked, pointing to a door recessed in a curtained alcove.

"The nursery," Darcy responded. "It has been unused since Georgiana was born and is empty. Beyond it is another chamber for a nurse." He had come behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, kissing her below her ear.

"Are you planning on practicing the filling of those uninhabited chambers this moment, Mr. Darcy?" she said archly.

"It
is
a bedchamber, my dear, although not the bedchamber I have fantasized seeing you in." He playfully nibbled on her earlobe.

She turned in his arms, smiling wickedly. "Fantasies, is it? Why, Mr. Darcy, how decadent of you! I am shocked to the core!"

He held tighter, "You minx! You have revealed your dreams to me, so do not play innocent." He kissed her heartily but she wiggled out of his arms, giggling.

"We may never complete this tour, sir, if you constantly interrupt." With an impish smile she flounced to the third unexplored door. He followed, smiling foolishly.

This door led to her dressing area. This room, with adjacent bathing area, was larger than the bedchamber. Rows upon rows of drawers, numerous racks to hang gowns, and shelves for shoes lined one entire wall length. Her meager belongings took up no space at all. An enormous floor-length mirror stood at one end. The vanity was magnificent with a dark-blue velvet cushioned bench, dozens of small drawers, and a mirror edged in gold. On the top was a large bouquet of white roses in a crystal vase surrounded by perfume bottles and a musical box. Through the arch, an enormous bathing tub and an elegant stand with a porcelain washbasin and pitcher were visible.